FateStuck
by Pokerfates
Summary: Based on the work of literary genius Andrew Hussie, who wrote/is writing a webcomic called HomeStuck. Six young teenagers play an online game together. Rated T for: coarse language; infrequent innuendo; frequent violence.
1. Synthetic Fungus

**READ THIS FIRST! **Hey, looks like this is my first "published" story ever! The first thing I should note is that this story is based off a webcomic called HomeStuck, by Andrew Hussie, which is arguably the greatest piece of literature and art to arise from this culturally despondent generation. The original story can be found on a website called mspaintadventures. HomeStuck need not be read to comprehend FATEStuck, but you should still read it, because it's funny and awesome and great. Plus, I might subconsciously insert references to it in the story, so if something seems strange or completely unfunny, just read HomeStuck, and you'll get it. Second, I MUST note that FATEStuck is a role playing game I play, with five other players and one GM. I cannot take any credit for the ideas made by other people. That includes the overall storyline, character development, and occasional lines of dialogue that were simply too witty for me to operate on. I _can _take credit for the words, the nuance, and all the various literary liberties I took to transform this great game into a story. Third, FATEStuck is supposed to meet once a week, but this is obviously not easily managed, considering seven people with different schedules, etc. I _will _attempt to keep to a schedule of at least one update a week, probably more if I have time, or sometimes less, usually depending on schoolwork. I believe FATEStuck has already had at least 20 sessions, so it will be a while, but I will probably catch up to "real time" in a few months. When that happens, updates will obviously slow down to whenever sessions happen. But I'll burn that bridge when I come to it. Lastly, many thanks to: Zuki, Godbot, Rafter, Innerfire, Spiritsongtress, Armada, and Pokerfates, the players of FATEStuck. And... I'm rambling, so here's the first chapter of the first act:

* * *

**Act One**

**Heavy with the Portentous Weight of Destiny**

* * *

-Session Start-

**Chapter One**

**Synthetic Fungus**

A young man stands in his bedroom. Well, hunches would be a more accurate term. He is hunching over one of many tables strategically situated throughout the room. It just so happens that he is working on a very intriguing experiment involving insects, compressed air, and minuscule plastic arms. It is no doubt extremely complicated, exciting, and altogether unimportant to this story. Besides, he is obviously a busy guy, tinkering with his tiny termites, and busy guys like him have no time to waste on silly people who don't know the difference between ovoviviparity and embryogenesis. Like you. Let us move on.

A young man is lying flat on a skateboard in his garage. He is similar in age, build, and locality to the first boy we met. Directly above him, a Jeep, broken beyond repair, stubbornly remains broken beyond repair. This guy seems pretty cool, and probably has all sorts of badass talents and whatnot. Seriously, what thirteen year old do _you _know who can fix a Jeep? Not this guy anyway; that Jeep is totally busted. Another thing that you should know about cool guys like him, is that they can get annoyed when people are being especially uncool. This particular cool guy gets pretty upset when working on belligerent Jeeps for hours, so we should probably keep looking.

Looking around at the area outside the garage, one could probably see trees. Many trees. They _could _see them, if not for the thick sheet of warm rain steadily assaulting the rainforest's ground. The air is also remarkably torrid, owing in part to the humidity from the recent showers. Other notable weather includes a layer of mist, gusts of wind, and a _huge-ass freakin' hurricane _bearing down on this exact spot.

Standing apart distinctly from the surrounding vegetation, a resplendent geodesic dome envelops the upper portion of a tremendous tree. Below it, surrounding the lower portion of the trunk, is a wide cone, with the apex truncated by the sphere above. The residents of this treedome already know of the impending storm, thanks to their highly advanced alert system. Perhaps we should examine the treedome in further depth, as there is obviously much to see.

There is certainly no dearth of technology inside the house; every door is automatic, every light motion-activated. There are no stairs; only an elevator system installed in the trunk of the tree. Below ground, there is a fully equipped lab, which almost all of the residents used to use on a frequent basis. On the ground floor, an extensive library is kept, housing hundreds of hefty tomes on all subjects, guarded by several highly advanced security systems. And of course, the entire tree and its immediate surroundings are covered by a field of stable wifi.

Oh, what's this? It seems the busy guy has finished being busy. Come to think of it, even busy guys like him have names, don't you think? Let's let him tell us his name, and then we can watch as he goes through the rest of his day.

Griffin Lottatore straightened his back and smiled, satisfied with the results of his experiment with _Rasahus Reduviidae _and their response to being supplemented with certain appendages. His joy was brought to an abrupt end however, when he caught a glimpse of the laptop sitting on his desk. It had a blinking symbol in the corner implying a storm warning, but he knew the true severity of the so-called "storm," thanks to the alert panel in the dining room. His parents had invented it, along with the dome itself, keeping in mind the natural climate of their chosen home in the Peruvian forest of Manu. He knew better than to shrug off the warning as being just another storm. A hurricane of this size could be extremely dangerous.

He decided then to go outside to check on his brother's progress on their Jeep, which had been completely demolished in an earlier squall. That Jeep, he understood, was their only method of transport into the city, from where they could gather supplies for the impending deluge. Leaving his room, he took the elevator down to the lower half of the dome of the house, where the main living space was. He exited the shelter of the dome to one of the balconies overlooking the pristine forest, and looked around for the Jeep and his brother, both of which were nowhere to be found, meaning he probably put it away._ "Good,"_ Griffin thought, _"at least he managed to do that right." _And since his brother was unseen as well, he was probably working on the Jeep.

Satisfied that work was, in fact, getting accomplished, Griffin turned back inside and returned to his room, where one of his colleagues had been attempting to chat with him through the Pester Chum application. One of his close friends, sangrealseamtress began pestering him, telling him "Obtain package. Extract game. Install Sburb." He quickly responded,

empiricalEntomologist: "Fine, thanks, and you?"

sangrealSeamtress: "Oh right, I've forgotten myself in my earnest."

sS: "I'm good, and very excited."

sS: "Also, remember the game we were discussing? Did it come yet?"

eE: "Oh yes, I recall. The beta, correct?"

sS: "Yeah that one."

eE: "I do not know if it arrived. My brother is in charge of collecting mail, and our Jeep is broken."

eE: "So I do not think that acquiring the game is possible at the moment."

sS: "Yeah, I usually try to get to my mail before the cats do, or they start playing with it."

eE: "Do tell."

sS: "Ugh, those cats are so annoying sometimes."

sS: "But I love them anyway."

sS: "Oh yeah, I put together my new computer, Viviane."

eE: "Viviane? You named your computer?"

sS: "I know it's dumb, but I think it's important to give it a bit of soul, and a name does that."

eE: "I guess it would be important if you wanted to install some sort of AI technology on it."

sS: "Yeah! That'd be soooo cool!"

sS: "I have to go now."

sS: "Go check your mail!"

sS: "And let me know if you get the game!"

eE: "Good bye."

sangrealSeamtress ceased pestering empiricalEntomologist.

And then there was calm in Griffin's room. Peace and quiet, just what he needed right then. Suddenly, a distant yet pronounced clatter rang throughout the house, followed by a barely audible expletive.

The phrase "oh great," drifted unconsciously into Griffin's mind. "The unmistakable sound of failure..."

The quandry now presenting itself to Griffin was whether or not he should meet and confront his brother regarding his failure; if he did, it would surely escalate into a full-fledged strife, but if left alone, a problem does not fix itself. Knowing his brother, he would definitely give up without a proper push. "Time for another motivational speech," he mused.

* * *

Ding!

The elevator performed its duties adequately, bringing the bedraggled Felix Lottatore up into the main living space of the Dome. Emerging into the center of the sphere, dripping with oil, rain, and frustration, he wanted nothing more than to viciously murder the first thing he came across. Conveniently enough, that happened to be his uptight, pretentious twin brother.

"What?" he spat, contempt thicker in his voice than the motor oil on his body.

"I said nothing." came the calm reply from his more reserved counterpart.

"Why are you here instead of poring over your creepy creatures?"

"I heard a commotion outside, and I was curious about the source. Why are _you_ here instead of repairing our sole mode of transport?"

"I'm done with that piece of shit. It's toast. I'd rather walk to town to get food than waste my time on that crap heap."

"Walk? You want to walk 250 kilometers to Cuzko? You realize that would take... well over a week, right?"

"And fixing that Jeep would take well over eternity. Tell me, math geek, which is longer?"

"Had you been more responsible in your use of the Jeep, it would likely be in better condition."

"It was the storm, numbnuts! And at least I tried to fix it. What have you done to support us?"

"I... have been working on development of highly nutritious mushrooms for our consumption in the event you failed to get us a steady supply of food. Which you did."

"Mushrooms! Your solution to complete desolation is synthetic fungus?"

"It's better than nothing! What else can we do?"

For once, Felix lowered his voice and thought before replying "We could contact Mom and Dad. They could come home and help."

That shut up Griffin up pretty quickly. He paused, and then, "Felix we can't. I-"

"I know. I don't want to swallow my pride either. But have little choice-"

"No, I mean we actually cannot reach them at all. I tried talking to them before, about an hour ago. There was no response."

Felix paused for the second time in five minutes, more times than any other conversation he had ever had. The Lottatore parents had gone away on a scientific expedition. To where, the children knew not. They had told them they would return in three months. That was five months ago. Until this morning they had always been able to contact them, through some strange wireless network which neither twin fully understood. But now they had lost their last connection to their parents, and to society.

When he resumed speaking, all Felix said was "oh." Then, regaining his composure, he said :Well, I guess all we can do now is wait for the storm to pass, then order food by air drop. Our supplies should last us a few more days, so we should be fine."

"That... makes plenty of sense," replied Griffin, "but just to be safe, we should ration our food to last longer, in case the storm takes a while to pass. We should be fairly safe inside the dome; it's built to withstand severe weather."

No sooner had the words left his lips than a loud crash sounded outside the dome. Both twins raced to the window to see what the source of the disturbance was, and what they saw boded ill for their situation; the gale force winds had toppled one of the nearby trees. Then they saw something large and ominous; they quickly ducked out of the way, as a large branch came crashing through the window, propelled by 40 km/h winds, with insufficient force to penetrate the durable metal bubble, but enough to shatter the window into tiny fragments of plexiglass.

The Lottatore twins got up from the ground, sweeping plexiglass from their clothes. Looking at each other, they shared one thought: "Shi-"

-Session End-


	2. Labyrinthine Hallways

**Hey there. I am so very apologetic about the tardiness of my upload. I had one _craaazy _New Year's. Just kidding: I don't have a life :P. The real reason was because I misplaced my notebook. I would promise it won't happen again, but let's face it: I lose things. In all likelihood, this will happen a few more times before I finally learn to take care of my stuff. Here's chapter two. Read it and like it (and review it!) Speaking of which, I like writing this story, but it's not worth posting it online if nobody reads it, so ya'll need to tell yo friends, tell yo wife, and tell yo husbands, cause they reading er'body out here. Oh yeah, once again, I must stress: EVERYONE SHOULD READ HOMESTUCK! I promise you won't regret it in the slightest. Actually, tell everyone about Homestuck first, cause it's better than this by far.**** Hope you all enjoyed the first weekend of the New Year!**

* * *

**Chapter Two- Labyrinthine Hallways**

-Session Start-

Farther north of the Lottatores, another young man sat in his room, surrounded by dozens of cogs and clocks. Like a king encircled by his unfinished subjects, James Stickley surveyed his room fondly. Amongst the clockwork, paper, appropriated from his father's archives, lay strewn about, with no particular array. Most were folded into a variety of shapes, some with quite intricate designs, and still others lay forgotten, pristine and still in the preliminary phase of origami, where the craftsman would stare blankly at a sheet of paper, as if waiting for divine inspiration before molding it to his will. The focal point of his diminutive realm, a life-sized paper replica of Thomas Jefferson, rose from the debris like a beacon of hope and order in a world of organized chaos.

Upon his desk, James' laptop beeped urgently, attempting to relay a message from one of his contacts, a young woman under the alias of sangrealSeamtress. She had, of late, been pestering him nonstop to play a certain game with her, which she was convinced would be an extremely rewarding experience. As if to further emphasize her desperation to play, she had sent a message to all of her friends about an hour ago, which James could ignore no longer.

It read: "Obtain package. Extract game. Install Sburb."

chronocraftingConspiritor resumed pestering sangrealSeamtress

cC: I already told you, I can't get it now.

cC: I'll tell you when I have it, and am ready to play.

sS: But I need to play noooooow!

cC: So play with someone else.

cC: Like Felix. I bet he'd love to play.

sS: He won't answer my pestering.

cC: Ok, how about Grif?

cC: He could probably be convinced to tear himself away from his insects for an hour.

sS: I just asked, he doesn't have it.

sS: He said Felix gets the mail, so he would have it.

sS: and cP says his bro has the mail, including the game!

sS: :O

cC: Wow, he's never getting that back...

cC: What about pP?

sS: Ugh

sS: Don't get me started...

sS: He never sits still long enough to get anything in the mail.

sS: It's impossible to track him, he's always moving.

sS: Plus, he doesn't even want to play!

sS: I need him to get the game and play with us!

cC: Why?

cC: Why are you so anxious for us all to play a stupid game?

sS: I don't know...

sS: It's just... I have a feeling it's important somehow.

sS: We just have to play and see!

sS: All of us! Even grumps who don't like playing fun games.

cC: Well, I have a feeling my dad would kill me if I left my room today, even to get the mail.

sS: Why?

cC: Eh, there's some big important military meeting or something in my house, and he doesn't want me underfoot.

cC: At least that's what he said.

cC: I think he's just trying to be stifling and over controlling.

sS: What was that?

cC:...what?

sS: I just heard a sound outside my house!

sS: It sounded like an explosion!

sS: I'm going to go check it out.

sS: Have fun with your dad ;)

sangrealSeamtress ceased pestering chronocraftingConspiritor

cC: Be careful!

cC: :(

James quickly closed his laptop before his friends could further distract him from his new goal: obtain package, extract game, install Sburb. When his friend said she "had a feeling," he knew that meant it must be done. He had seen for himself, on several occasions, that her "feelings" were often correct. It was spooky. In fact, he often felt like he was the last one to know anything.

Now he faced the task of planning his heist. He knew his father often ate lunch at 1:00 or later, but today, when he had a meeting starting at 12:00, he would probably eat earlier, probably at 11:00. Looking around his room at his many clocks, he spotted one that was actually running properly, and its face read 11:00 exactly. Thus, now, while his father was bound to be out at lunch, was the opportune time to launch his mission.

But first, he needed to do something ridiculous. He thought for a while as he gazed around at the whirlwind of gears and paper. Suddenly, his mind decided upon a suitably inane whim. He grabbed several sheets of paper, envisioned the design within, and began folding himself an outfit befitting the duke of pointlessness. He donned the jacket, boots and crown made of newspaper, making sure they fit him perfectly without tearing.

Glimpsing himself in the mirror on his door, he decided that he looked sufficiently deranged, and exited his room, entering a series of labyrinthine hallways that twisted more ways than was strictly architecturally feasible. The omnipresent papers continued their reign in the hall, but the further away from his room, the less frequently folded pieces appeared. Peering around every corner tentatively was a time consuming, but a necessary burden, for James did not wish to incur his father's wrath. When he reached the final corner, his face appeared in the living room, a large area doubling as a foyer. Here too, there were thousands of papers, but none were folded, and they were all in orderly, looming stacks, or else stashed away in one of the four filing cabinets strategically placed throughout the room.

Seeing that his father was not lurking about his personal hoard of paper archives, James ran into the room and made a beeline for the door. A few papers broke loose from their stagnant structures, and flew in the tail wind from James' mad dash for freedom. Throwing open the front door, he stepped out, blinking, into the blinding Nevada sun. Upon taking his first step, he received a painful reminder that paper was not invented for protection from scorching sand. Wincing with every step, James made his way to the administration building, where mail for the entire base was received, sorted, and distributed.

When he entered the building, the man at the front desk looked at him in surprise, and said, "James? What are you doing here?"

"I live here Peter," replied James, confused.

"I thought you were being sent home, effective immediately."

"What? Why?"

"I've always thought that a military base is no place for a child. I guess your father and the Lieutenant finally agree with me."

James could feel his cheeks growing red in fury. He was tired of being underestimated, especially by his father. He knew his father was behind this indignity; he hadn't wantws to bring James to the base in the first place, but James protested his displeasure with his Aunt Meredith until his father capitulated and brought him along.

"I hear the head officers are having a meeting to discuss change in decorum at the base," he continued, "so they're probably talking about you right now."

"Why are they just deciding this now? What made them change their minds?"

"That's over my head," he said, shrugging. He handed James his mail, and said "Do svidaniya moi drug."

"Do svidaniya," said James, eagerly accepting, among the mail, a large shipping envelope addressed to him. In place of a return address, it bore a spirograph, the symbol of Skaianet, makers of Sburb. In it, he could feel two discs beyond the protective shell of bubble wrap. Clutching the package to his chest, he quickly ran home. It was far too heavy, he realized to be containing two ordinary compact discs. It was heavy; Heavy with the Portentous Weight of Destiny.

* * *

sartorialCardshark resumed pestering sangrealSeamtress

sC: Got it! Let's play this shit.

sangrealSeamtress is now an idle chum!

sC: Crap...

* * *

James burst through the door with gleeful abandon. At last, he had the coveted game, the one he had waited weeks for, and the one he recently learned was of the utmost importance. In his blind joy, he forgot to painstakingly check every corner on the twisted path to his room. He forgot for a second that around any corner, he could possibly run into his irritable father. He forgot that he was utterly inept at crafting functional clocks, and that their faces often misinformed their owner of the correct time. And he forgot that the correct time, which was precisely one hour _past _11:00, was also the time to expect his father and several other officers to be lurking about his house. In forgetting all these things, James was caught completely unawares by the bulky chest suddenly impeding his path. Looking up, he saw that the torso was attached to the stern, cold face of his father.

-Session End-


	3. The Wild, the Wary, and the Wire

**So hey, right on time this week, although a bit late in the day. Unfortunately, I probably won't be posting until the 20th, because I am basically drowning in midterms until then. Luckily for you, this chapter is larger than usual, and it introduces the final three kids :) This chapter contains lots of direct quotes from the original gaming logs, so props to their creators. Also, this chapter starts referencing gaming abstractions from the Homestuck universe. For those of you who _still_ haven't read Homestuck yet, basically all technicalities are explained fairly early in the story. For those too lazy to read it, guess you'll have to figure it out yourselves (or post a review asking for an explanation, which I will happily provide). By the way, it is very difficult to get this story read, due to its placement on the site, since FAR too few people have read Homestuck for it to achieve the status of Fanfiction category. Thus, I beseech you all to spread the word of Homestuck and of Fatestuck. Thank you, and enjoy the first Megachapter (5000 words! O: ). (The next few chapters start to get _really_ cool, so stay tuned!)**

**-You most certainly _can_ read my Pokerfates**

* * *

**Chapter Three- The Wild, the Wary and the Wire**

-Session Start-

Deep in New York city, there was once a bustling hotel called Sturtevant House, which had served tens of thousands of guests in its time. Probably. However, that hotel closed down in the beginning of the 20th century. Directly next to it however, The Wander Inn was founded nearly a hundred years later, and that is where we must focus our attention now. For on the 6th floor of that inn, in room 13, a boy lay on a nauseatingly floral bedspread, bored out of his mind. And that boy is where our adventure continues.

Like in all of the other hotels he had visited across the country in years past, Sean Maxwell found himself with nothing to occupy his restless mind. The hotel room was completely devoid of any media for quality entertainment. There were however, dozens of his Aunt's romance novels. They were the reason for his cross-country trip alongside his Aunt; she was a widely acclaimed novelist, and she was consistently being invited to a perpetual string of showcases and book signings, sponsored by hoards of loyal fans. Sean could easily rattle off a list of the types of hopeless losers who could be counted among such hoards. First, there were decrepit old ladies, who liked to reminisce about old flames. Then there were young adults, seeking advice about what their own love lives should be like. The last group contained the trillions of screaming teenage girls who perpetuated the incessant circle of cultural consumerism, following the pack and preying on the succulent flesh of the latest fads, then boasting of their conquest on various social networks. Among the ranks of the last group was one of Sean's long-time internet pals, although she could hardly be described as a "hoard member."

Why, you may ask, would any self-respecting boy remain, of his own volition, inside a hotel room, when just outside his door was an adventure waiting to happen? The correct answer was, of course, he wouldn't. Sean was not here due to any self-loathing on his part; in fact, he had already gotten into an "adventure" in The Wander Inn. And by adventure, of course I mean trouble. A parkour enthusiast, he went on an expedition into the vast unknown. Needless to say, hotel management did not appreciate his footprints on the walls. This lead to his Aunt giving him a stern "don't do it again." She then grounded him, which, in a hotel, meant he was expected to not wander around the halls outside his room.

The boredom driving him further into desperation, Sean decided to consult his buddies for ideas to keep him occupied. He had no laptop or other computing device, but he could still keep in touch with them with Pesterchum Mobile on his Cranberry smartphone. However, whether because of the impenetrable and extremely ominous layer of tenebrous clouds blocking reception, or because of the gentle nudging of some unseen entity, he could not access the ordinarily reliable mobile network.

Loading...

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Argh!

* * *

So yeah, there's this guy, right? He's got a room, of course, and there's even stuff in it too. A lot of stuff. Cool stuff. Like... ummm... oh! He has several playing manuals for some popular role playing games. That's cool, right? Ok, he also has several beanbag chairs. Those are definitely cool. He also has a desk where he keeps a bunch of papers from school and a laptop, which he always keeps open for some reason. It is powered up now, but not logged on.

User: Jake Proctor

Pass: _

Ooh, and swords! He has lots of really awesome swords! A whole pile of them, in fact. A practicing swordsman must as a matter of convenience keep at least one sword within reach at all times. Uh-oh, he's picking one up now. I think I'll just leave him to his own devices, for fear of injury by such sharp blades in such inexperienced hands...

Jake Proctor picked up one of his prized steel blades just to feel its hilt in his hand. He often did this; he liked just holding swords. It made him feel... potent. Unlike girls. They somehow possessed the ability to strip him completely of any self esteem. He only stood a chance against them while chatting through the computer. Like right at that moment, when...

sangrealSeamtress began pestering chivalrousPaladin

Gulp. Jake decided to continue practicing his swordplay to build up some inner power before talking to her. She was often difficult to maintain composure around, due to her unusually bubbly manner. He set down the sword he was holding, and picked up another from the pile. To the uneducated eye, the two swords seemed quite similar, but to a budding blade enthusiast such as Jake, it was obvious that the swords were, in fact, _the exact same sword_.

Jake attempted to pull off a complicated maneuver he had recently learned with his sword.

Swish!

Swish!

Swish!

**Thunk!**

Jake attempted to pull open a closed door he had recently impaled with his sword.

Unh!

Unh!

Unh!

**Thunk!**

Deciding it looked even stupider that way, Jake replaced the sword's handle to its prior position. Stepping back, he admired his handiwork, as it dawned on him that a sword through his door was actually a sign of incredible badassitude. No one needed to know that it was only stuck there due to his own incompetence. If anyone asked, he would shrug and tell them the heroic saga of his brief struggle with several rogue ninjas. Not that it really mattered; no one was going to be seeing his room anytime soon.

His manly vigor replenished, Jake returned to his computer, gritted his teeth, and...

chivalrousPaladin resumed pestering sangrealSeamtress

cP: yo

For seven painfully long minutes, he waited for a reply. Then, finally-

sS: Oh hey!

sS: Did you do it?

cP: do what?

cP: oh

sS: Get the game?

cP: no sorry

sS: Oh no

sS: :'(

cP: No no

cP: dont cry :(

cP: Here, for you m'lady

cP: *offers sS a favor*

sS: :O

cP: *is really fucking knightly and shit*

sS: :)

sS: Thank you very much, good sir.

cP: You're welcome

cP: fair maiden.

sS: er

sS: what do I do with a "favor?"

cP: If you ever require the service of a brave knight

cP: you know who to call ;)

sS: ...

sS: Ghostbusters?

cP: Not unless you somehow encounter a fell spirit or something

cP: like that's ever going to happen

cP: But for everything else...

cP: Call me!

cP: And I will save the day!

sS: Wait, hold on

sS: why didn't you get the mail?

cP: Ugh...

cP: My brother has it...

sS: :O

* * *

Loading...

Loading...

Load-

Oh forget it!

Consumed by a fit of impatient rage, Sean angrily flung his phone at one of the hateful walls entrapping him in the room. Or he would have, if he was completely retarded. Instead, he jammed it angrily into his **Pocket** where it belonged.

**Pocket Modus- Holds up to two small objects, both retrievable, objects cannot collide.**

Sean had never been a fan of complicated fetch modi; he preferred to use a simple **Backpack** when necessary.

Sean collapsed onto his bed, the crushing futility of his situation weighing heavily on his spirit.

Suddenly, he sprang back onto his feet, an idea finally forming in his mind. But first, to implement his plan, he first needed to find his **Hiking Boots**. His **Running Shoes** were ok, but they weren't perfect for what he had in mind. He ran around the room, in the process knocking over a pile of his Aunt's books. Picking one up, he considered **Captchaloging** it, but instead decided to play hacky-sack with it.

Finishing off his 6x tap combo by punting it across the room, he caused the book to smash into the Mandatory Picture of Like, Sailboats, found in every hotel room, dislodging it from it's place on the wall. Oops. He moseyed over to the painting to put it back on the wall. And for once, being responsible paid off, for there, under the bed, were his **Hiking Boots**. He quickly **Captchaloged **them to his **Strife Specibus**, where his other **Shoekind **could be found.

**Shoekind Abstratus- Currently holds: Running Shoes; Hiking Boots**

Now he could easily switch between the two shoes hassle-free. He chose shoes as his **Strife Specibus** because he realized how useful a **Specibus **was when equipped with a commonly used item. You would likely be holding that item a lot, and allocating it to your **Specibus** left room in your **Sylladex** to hold other items you **Captchaloged**. His Aunt, who did not realize that, probably allocated like, lipstick or something equally useless, which would mean that would be the only item she could ever allocate to that **Strife Card**.

Now equipped with his trusty **Hiking Boots**, Sean set his plan into motion. First, he gathered up the sheets from his bed. Looking at them carefully, he decided he also needed his Aunt's sheets. He then tied all the sheets together to make a long, durable rope. Grinning to himself, he rushed excitedly over to the window and opened the shades.

Looking out at the city below, he could see that, for some reason, it was not nearly as busy as he had seen it before. Few cars and taxis zipped along at ten miles per hour faster than the legal limit. Few people bustled impatiently to their all-too-important jobs. Even the pigeons were not as ubiquitous as they usually were. A sense of gloom and dread hung over the city, overcast by the ill-tempered thunderheads above. "Today's going to be a strange one..." he mused.

With that, he opened the window, tightly affixed one end of his handmade rope to it, and gave it a few powerful yanks to ascertain that it would retain its integrity. Dangling it outside his window, he looked down and saw just how high six floors was. Probably enough to sustain quite a few major injuries in the event he should fall. "Oh well," he thought, "guess I just won't fall." The rope only extended about three and a half stories down, he saw, but that was enough for what he had in mind. He swung his legs over the window sill, and began rappelling down the side of the building.

When he reached the end of his rope, he looked around to the building next door, a certain Sturtevant House, not more than twenty feet away from him. With less than a moment's hesitation, he pushed off from the wall of his hotel, swinging across to the other one. He landed near a window on the other side of the divide, and he grabbed that to prevent swinging back to his original position. Releasing the bed sheet rope, it fell limply back against the wall of the Wander Inn, as he ducked into the window of the abandoned hotel.

* * *

cP: If you want, I can try to get it back from him

cP: But don't expect me to come back with all of my limbs.

sS: YES!

sS: please do that!

sS: You really need to get the game

cP: ?

cP: That's kind of strange...

cP: Why is it so important to get the game?

sS: I don't know...

sS: Just do it ok?

cP: I just don't think a game is worth risking a beatdown from my bro

sS: ok, that's it

cP: what?

sS: i didn't want to do this so soon, but

sS: you leave me no choice

sS: I must

sS: Call in a Favor!

cP: :O

sS: I request the services of a brave and virtuous knight.

sS: I shall be questing in the remote land of Sburb, and I require a gentlemanly escort.

sS: You, Sir Proctor, shall accompany me on my journey.

sS: And to do so, you will need to acquire a writ of passage from the ruler of your domain, Lord Bro.

sS: Now get thee on thy way!

sS: please :)

chivalrousPaladin ceased pestering sangrealSeamtress

sS: ...

* * *

Jake Proctor ceased pestering a lovely young women to fulfill his duty. He was really afraid of his older brother, but he was now bound by the code of honor by which he lived, the cohesive force that bound all knights: chivalry. He had promised a favor to a lady, and she used that favor to ask that he face his terrifying and psychotic guardian, and that was what he now resolved to do.

Wary of the **S****trife** that would surely erupt in his confrontation with his brother, Jake grabbed a sword from the nearby pile.

**Bladekind Abstratus- Currently holds: Cheap Ass Sword**

"All right, no use putting this off any longer.." thought Jake, cringing at his fate.

He exited his room and walked timidly down the hall to his brother's room. Mustering up his courage, he raised a fist and pounded on the door, in a way that belied his trepidations. There was no response. Puzzled, Jake knocked again. When all he heard was silence, he considered opening the door, but quickly thought better of it. Instead, he went downstairs to the living room, where loads of his brother's crap resided, his room too full to contain it all. There were many old issues of Gamebro magazine, scattered about all over the chairs, love seat, coffee table, and floor. Empty beer cans were strewn everywhere, his brother too lazy to throw them away.

Jake's thoughts were suddenly interrupted by an obnoxiously loud roar of an engine. A motorcycle engine. Jake leapt out the door to face his powerful foe. He saw the shape of a person on a motorbike grow larger as it approached from the horizon, the glare of the Atlantan afternoon sun behind it, and he knew it could only be his brother. Sword at the ready, he addressed him.

"Excuse me, sir, could you please relinquish the mail to me? This is me asking in a courteous and polite manner."

The bike slowed and stopped, and its rider replied to Jake's request.

"And what if I don't? Are you going to try to take it from me?"

"That may well be my intent. If it comes to that, I might be forced to use forceful measures, but I sincerely hope that will not be necessary."

"Aw, aren't you just adorable? You and your cute little sword can't do anything about... this," he said, as he flung the package containing Jake's metaphorical holy grail up up up, over the fence into the neighboring yard, which happened to be a nearby junkyard. The one infamous for its enormous, vicious canine terror.

"H-hey! I needed that!" Jake sputtered indignantly.

"Well, then why don't you go and get it? Too scared?"

"I-I-"

"Here, lemme give you a hand," he said, as he picked up the lad and, with astounding strength, flung him up up up, over the fence into the neighboring yard.

Into the den of the beast.

* * *

And so, at last we are privileged to finally make the acquaintance of this fine young lady. Who is this effusive, mysterious chatterbox who has been pestering all of our new friends? Let's watch, and find out.

In a room decorated to reflect her enthusiasm for medieval lore, Stella Glasswright sat at her newly assembled computer. The very first thing she did after logging in to her new account was to download Pesterchum 6.0, which was currently installing itself onto her desktop. While that was loading, Stella patted her lap to coax one of her cats onto it. When one did, she began stroking her tenderly, but unlike many pet owners, instead of whispering insipid phrases of "good girl!" and "yes you are!" to her, she spoke clearly and sternly.

"Lady Gwen! I must have told you at least a dozen times. You cannot just use my personal belongings as scratching posts. Especially not my computer, and especially not when I need it the most, like now. Had I not been able to obtain a replacement in time, all would have been for naught. My friends would all think of me as a hypocrite for pestering them to play, and then ending up incapable of playing myself."

"Meow," came the sardonic mewling of the feline in her hands.

"Don't give me any of that," she reprimanded her. "You knew better, and yet you still went ahead and deliberately disobeyed me. I am sorry, but I am going to have to confine you to your quarters for your insolence."

"Meow"

"Oh all right, Lady Gwen. You have persuaded me. I could never stay mad at anyone, let alone you."

And with that, she put the cat back down and returned to her computer, on which Pesterchum had fully installed. Eagerly, she sent a single message to all her friends: "Obtain package. Retrieve game. Install Sburb."

When nobody responded, she sighed and looked around her room for something to occupy her time. Her bear skin rug looked as menacing as ever, flickering in the glow of her electric fireplace. The fire was purely for atmospheric enhancement, since it was the middle of June, and it was quite warm at her country home in Wyoming. She had an authentic medieval bookcase, which contained, among several medical tomes given to her by her overenthusiastic parents, her vast collection of romantic novels, many authored by a certain Lola Maxwell. She also had a closet where she kept her musical scores, as well as some spare piano parts, including a length of piano wire. This she **Captchaloged** to her **Wirekind**.

**Wirekind Abstratus- Currently holds: Piano wire.**

She immediately began whipping it around, practicing using it as a weapon. She had no idea why, but she had a strange urge to get herself used to fighting with her wire. This phenomenon was akin to her recent compulsion to get her friends to play a special computer game with her.

When her violent flailing almost knocked over her brand new computer, which was now beeping to inform her that she had a new message, Stella decided to put away her wire and return to Viviane. "Yes," she decided, "my computer shall be named Viviane."

Only one of her friends had been online when she had sent her message, and he was also the first to respond to her plea.

eE: "Fine, thanks, and you?"

sS: "Oh right, I've forgotten myself in my earnest."

She then proceeded to have a short conversation with her friend Griffin, which ended abruptly because her dear Lady Gwen reminded her repeatedly of her culinary duties as overseer of feline underlings.

She did not log off, in case one of her other friends logged on and responded to her pestering. She exited her room into a hallway filled with at least a dozen cats. Usually they all dispersed themselves evenly throughout the house, each one with their own small realm over which they ruled. Now however, they all seemed to cluster around her room, in a desperate plea for attention and food, but mostly food.

When she arrived in the kitchen, the wave of cats followed her, observing her every move ardently, as she filled each of their bowls with high quality cat meal. They were all obedient enough to wait patiently until she finished her task before swarming her in a mad rush to get to their food. Smiling down at them, Stella turned to return to her headquarters, when suddenly, she heard the sound of the front door opening and then closing. "Great," she muttered, "Mom's home..." While she normally got along well with her Mother, they had been fighting a lot of late, regarding Stella's future.

"Stella!" called Mommy Dearest to her daughter. "Could you please come to the living room? I'd like to chat with you a moment."

Summoning up her resolve and reviewing her arguments in her mind, Stella headed off to the living room, ready to face her Mother so she could assert her decision to follow her own aspirations, not those her parents wished to force upon her.

"Ah, there you are sweetie."

"Hello mother. How was your weekend?"

"It is not yet concluded, and I will have considered it to be a waste until you and I have discussed the issue of your resume."

"Issue? Is there something wrong or lacking in it?"

"Yes, it seems you do not have a sufficient amount of volunteer work planned for this summer."

"Yes, that's right. I was planning to relax this summer. I recently signed myself and all my friends up to play a beta of a free game called Sburb, and, judging by the description, it should prove to be a very involved and time consuming activity. I simply will not have time for a tremendous amount of volunteer outlets."

"So you wish to put your future on hold to waste your time playing a silly computer game with your friends? Do you think becoming a doctor is easy? Your Father and I can both attest to the difficulty of making your way through college and then medical school. Summer is not a time for fooling around simply because you do not have school; it is important to discipline yourself and keep constantly engaged in work, to prepare yourself for the future you have in store."

"Did you ever consider that I don't want to do what you and Father do for a living?"

"Oh you don't have to be a neurosurgeon if you don't want to. Cardiology is a noble practice itself."

"No, I don't want to do either of those things. I want to be an Obstetrical Gynocologist."

Mother blinked twice before asking "You want to be a...midwife?" in a tone that she might have used if her daughter had suggested she wanted to be a professional guttersnipe.

"Yes. It's a noble profession, as it has been for centuries. And it's pretty easy; nature pretty much has it covered."

"Easy? A Glasswright does not take the easy way out. Your Father and I are not going to pay a small fortune in tuition just so you can glide through your simple obstetric career."

"Neurosurgery, while profitable, would not make me happy. I want to feel like I'm contributing to the continuation of the human legacy, which birthing helps me do."

"Stella dear, as your Mother, I have had far more experience in the world than you have, especially when you are always cooped up in your room in front of a computer. I think I know what is best for you better than you do."

"Yes, you have lived your life for longer than I have mine, but I have still lived my life from my own perspective for 13 years, while you and Father only had an outside view of it. You may know now what was best for you when you were my age, but our situations are different, and we are different. I can accept that you can give guidance, but it stops at guidance, and I will not adhere to your words as some sort of religious dogma. Your statements have been taken into account, but my decision must remain my own. Now if you don't mind, I would like to adjourn to my quarters, so I can play a game with my friends, like children are known to do from time to time."

And so she did just that.

-Session End-

* * *

**EDIT-**_***Sigh* **_**Apparently, the aforementioned game mechanics are too hard to be understood, as I have received complaints, so I will explain them now:**

**Everyone in the Homestuck universe has something called a "sylladex." Well, almost everyone. All humans at any rate. Anyway, a sylladex is basically a replacement for the traditional gaming concept of an inventory. Instead of each item occupying a space in your in inventory, sylladices use something called a "captcha card," named after the action of "captchaloging" something, which is just a term for getting it. Captchaloging is different from just picking something up, because it has been shown that you are allowed to hold an object without putting it in your sylladex. **

**Sylladices use captcha cards to store items, one item per card (unless you captchalogue multiple of one kind of object at once, which just takes one card), with cards being actual objects which can be found in the real world. To add a card into your sylladex, you must captchalogue it, then cause it to be expelled, which will flush it into the deck. (Expelling will be explained soon.)**

**A fetch modus is the way your sylladex sorts captcha'd items, allows you to use them, and expells them from the deck. These modi often vary from person to person, with different basic groups of modi available. We have seen in Homestuck: Data structures (items are sorted and accessed in the same ways computers sort and access data), including stack, trees, hash, etc.; Games (play a game to access captcha'd items), including Jenga, Memory, and Operation; and Physical Objects (modi which mimic the function of ordinary storage units from our world), including Wallet and both of Sean's modi (Pocket and Backpack).**

**Strife is just Hussie's way of saying battle. A Strife Specibus shows what items you can use in a Strife. Again, all humans are shown to have a Strife Specibus. Specibi also use cards, but they use both regular captcha cards and special Strife cards, which allow you to allocate a Kind Abstratus. An Abstratus is the kind of weapon you will use in battle, such as a sword or a wire. Sean, who allocated shoeskind, will eventually fight by kicking his enemies with his shoes. Once a strife card has an abstratus allocated, that is its permanent allocation, never to change. You can, however, store multiple different Strife cards in your Strife Portfolio, in which case you can use any type of weapon in battle, as long as you have its card. And of course, you need an actual weapon, so you may captchalogue anything that matches any of your kind abstrati directly to that strife card. That is why Sean allocated shoes; he knew he would be using shoes a lot, so, to save space in his Backpack, he can now just captcha them to his strife deck.**

**Simple, right?**


	4. Rescue and Recovery

**Wow, sorry for being so late. I've been much busier than I thought I would be. Plus, typing stuff does not take zero time. To make up for it, I'll post again on Monday. Probably.**

**READ HOMESTUCK!**

**Also, I know Harry Potter fanfictions usually suck, because, let's face it, Rowling is clearly one of the best writers of today (but Hussie is better!). However, two parodies stand out in my mind. The first is pretty famous, so you have heard of it. If not, Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality, by Less Wrong is a great read. One warning though: it is extremely long (and it's still running) and once you start, it may be difficult to stop.**

**The second story isn't even about Harry Potter at all. It doesn't even have any of the canon characters in it. It's a story about a kid named Maldagra Hartwood, who lives in the Harry Potter universe, and discovers that he can do magic. It's quite good. It's called Maldagra Hartwood and the Kindling of Magic, by Dr. Elemenohpee.**

**'Kay, that's all for now. Enjoy Chapter Four,**

**- Po-po-po Pokerfates po-po Pokerfates**

* * *

Chapter 4- Rescue and Recovery

-Session Start-

Felix got up and stared at the wreckage caused by the high velocity impact of an enormous branch with the window. He carefully brushed shards of plastic from his clothes, then brought his fingers to his lips and let out a sharp whistle. Through a hole in the upper floor provided for that purpose, a large majestic bird flew down and landed on his shoulder.

"I'm taking Chiasmus down to the lab." he told his equally shaken twin. "It should be safer down there."

"Good idea," he replied, "I'll be down in a second. I just need to go get my research notes from my room. And my insects."

"Oh my god, Griffin, you are obsessed with those things! You need to decide right now- your bugs, or your life!" he exclaimed, gesturing toward the hurricane outside, sweeping up trees in its wake.

Griffin looked thoughtful for a moment before saying definitively, "I choose bugs." He then rushed over to the elevator to go to the upper level.

"Get my laptop while you're up there then!" Felix shouted after him.

After Griffin left, Felix stepped into the elevator and pressed the button that read B1. For some reason, B2 required a key, which neither twin had. Neither could remember ever being down to the mysterious 2nd basement at all; their parents had never even told them what was down there, and hastily changed the subject whenever asked. By now, Felix barely even glanced twice at the key hole, his curiosity distracted, but not abated.

Felix pressed the B1 button again.

And again, more urgently this time. The elevator refused to move.

_What the hell?_ he thought, starting to get annoyed. It was then that he noticed the flashing light near the top of the elevator, and he realized why it had stopped working. The basement, as a precaution for the floods commonly occurring during the rainy season, automatically sealed itself whenever it detected heavy rainfall that could possibly flood, so the elevator was no longer allowed to enter the underground lab.

Suddenly, the elevator lurched upward. When the doors opened, Griffin looked surprised to see him.

"Why aren't you downstairs?" he inquired. "I got your computer." he said, and he had indeed stored both of their laptops and all of his bugs in his **Log Modus**.

"The lab sealed itself. We can't get in."

"Hm. Well that is... troublesome. Still, we should go down to the lower level of the dome. That way, if the tree collapses, at least we'd be lower down, and we'd have a greater chance of survival."

When they got out of the elevator and stepped into the living room, they were greeted by the roar of not just the powerful wind, but an engine.

They rushed over to the balcony and, looking up, they saw a helicopter, desperately trying to weave its way through the currents of wind.

"What the hell?" Felix shouted over the screaming wind and the engine.

"Oh yeah!" Griffin answered, struggling to maintain both his volume and his footing in the vicious winds. "The treedome sends an emergency signal to Fly Co. when it detects a storm this huge. Remember two years ago, when we had those 40 km/h winds and four inches of rain?"

He was suddenly interrupted by a streak of red across the sky, as something collided with the helicopter. The helicopter plummeted through the air, but was caught by the thick canopy layer, and its descent was slowed to a stop about 5 meters above the flood on the forest floor.

"Well that was-" Felix began, but he was cut off by the sound of creaking metal and wood, as the branches gave way, allowing the helicopter to fall to the water with a tremendous splash.

Both twins peered over the balcony, shocked by what they had seen.

"What the _hell_ was that!" Felix asked, as if Griffin knew.

"As if I know! All I know is that the pilot might still be alive. We have to help him. Plus, all our supplies are in that helicopter."

"I'll get him." Felix said shortly, and turned and walked back inside.

"How are you- Hey! Felix!" Griffin started, quickly realizing that Felix had already left.

Griffin ran back inside in time to see the doors of the elevator close behind Felix. He stood at the elevator, pressing the button impatiently. When the elevator opened again, he stepped inside and pressed the Ground Floor button.

He ran out of the elevator and saw Felix about to leave out the front door.

"Felix stop!" he exclaimed, as he ran over to him, grabbed his shoulders, and spun him around. "There's got to be at least a meter of water out there. You could drown! What if you get hit by debris?"

"Well what else can we do? It has to be done. We need that stuff. Especially the game."

"What?" Griffin sputtered "What is so important about that game that it's worth risking your life over it?"

Felix just shrugged and started back to the door.

"Here," Griffin said, stopping him again. He handed Felix the rope from his **Log Modus**. "Tie this around your waist so I can pull you back."

Felix stared at him.

"Just in case. Come on, better safe than sorry."

"I could be done by now if you weren't so cautious." muttered Felix, but he grabbed the rope anyway and tied it around his waist.

Then, without warning, he dove out the door, into the wind and rain. Wading through a meter of water, Felix made painfully slow progress. Eventually, he reached the helicopter, without incident, and he ducked inside through the shattered windshield. Luckily, the helicopter had tilted in such a way as to not allow any water in through the windows, which had broken during the fall, so everything inside was intact. Felix looked around the helicopter for the things he came for.

* * *

Back inside the house, holding onto the other end of the rope, Griffin was starting to get worried. Felix had been gone for almost five minutes. He tried to see what was going on outside, but the rain was falling too heavily to see more than a few yards in front of him.

Suddenly, he felt a sharp tug on the rope in his hand. Although he couldn't see him, he knew Felix was in trouble. He pulled on the rope, but Felix was too heavy to pull in. Spying a crossbeam above him, near the door, he threw the rope over it, creating a pulley. He then pulled down, putting all of his weight into the rope, easily towing a very bedraggled Felix back into the house.

"So," He said, coldly "you failed yet again. Now do you understand the importance of having a plan? If you had listened to me, we could have worked something out, and you wouldn't have been put in danger."

Felix said nothing. He just untied himself, stood up, and stalked out of the foyer. With a whistle, Chiasmus followed behind him.

Griffin shook his head. His brother always acted impetuously, without waiting for him to come up with one of his patently genius plans. _In fact_, he thought, eying his simple machine, _here's one now._

He took the end of the rope still dangling from the beam, and secured it to the door frame so it wouldn't move. Then, he grabbed the other end and walked outside. He then swam over to the helicopter and tied the rope to its front. Then, holding the rope to prevent him from falling, he waded back to the tree.

Once inside, he considered how he could pull in the helicopter. Even with the aid of a pulley, it would still not be easy to move a 3000 kg machine.

He smiled to himself as a clever plan came to him. He knew he could always count on his intellect to succeed where his brother had failed.

He **Captchalog'd** the end of the rope, jotting down a brief description of it in his **Log**.

**Log Modus- Contains: _The end of a long, sturdy rope._**

He then walked over to the elevator, his **Sylladex** causing the rope to stretch much farther than it normally would.

Threading it through the doors, he ascended to the highest point of the building. The top of the tree had a roof above the leaves and branches, upon which Griffin stepped, the impossibly long rope

trailing behind him, the end still in his **Sylladex**. As he suspected, there were several large branches scattered across the roof. He **Captchalog'd** those as well, combining them with the card containing the rope, by editing his **Log** description of it.

**Log Modus- Contains: _The end of a long, sturdy rope. Attached to it are several large, heavy branches._**

The card, being a gaming abstraction, and thus having no mass, didn't encumber Griffin any more, despite all the added weight. He walked calmly over to the edge of the roof and peered down at the helicopter. He took out his **Captcha-Log** and put a line through his definition of the rope card. Immediately, the rope, along with the many kilograms of wood attached to it, were ejected from the **Sylladex**, over the edge, pulling the rope taut. The helicopter budged ever so slightly. Griffin gritted his teeth, not quite the daredevil Felix was. He gripped the rope tightly, and tentatively swung his leg over the edge. Gulping down air, as if trying to swallow some courage, he swung over the other leg, and started descending the side of the building. As he moved down, the helicopter moved through the water, moving closer to the house.

Griffin smiled inwardly, even while grimacing outwardly. _Mission accomplished._

* * *

Felix returned to his room and extracted the Sburb beta out from inside his shirt. He sat down at his computer and saw that he had a message from Stella waiting for him for over an hour.

sartorialCardshark resumed pestering sangrealSeamtress

sC: Got it! Let's play this shit.

sangrealSeamtress is now an idle chum!

sC: Crap...

-Session End-


	5. Flight Risk

**Wow, so so late. I guess I just lost track of things. Also, I had to rewrite this entire chapter twice, because I changed the entire focus of the chapter. I decided to add a sort of flashback here, one which never happened in the course of the game. I will probably do this again, since it is just a teaser for each character. I would likely finish up the entire sequence in two more chapters of this kind, which would be interspersed throughout the main story. There is only so much one can do to change a story which is already written.**

**Speaking of which, I have been contemplating making a new story, also a Homestuck fanfiction, and also not a real fanfiction, since it doesn't include any canon characters. The main difference between the new story and Fatestuck, is that it would be my own original work, untouched by anyone else but me. I know that it really makes no difference to most of you, since, to you, Fatestuck is already new, but I would like the chance to spread my wings beyond the scope of game transcriptions. However, I will leave the decision up to you, the readers. I put a poll up; just go to my profile page to vote. I'll do whatever you guys want, but I would like to see some serious voting, not just a handful of votes. I can't work based on that. I'll need... I guess thirty votes before I change anything.**

**OK, please enjoy Flashback 1, Flight Risk**

**-Don't tempt Pokerfates**

* * *

**Months in the Past, but not many...**

* * *

Stella Glasswright sat in her bedroom, pestering with her many chums. She was happy, and for good reasons too. For one thing, school was closed for the holidays, and her teachers had not assigned her too much homework, which gave her an unusual sense of freedom.

She turned and looked out the beautiful panoramic window at the sheets of glistening whiteness beyond the walls of her home. She was also happy because it was snowing, which she always loved. It seemed poetic; a white Christmas, for the first time since she could remember. Almost all of her friends had reported to her that they also had snow, some more than others. A few of her friends, however, lived in very temperate areas, and rarely saw snow at all. She felt bad for them; snow was her favorite thing about winter.

She had another reason to be happy, and this was the best of all. She had learned recently that one of her friends was coming to visit for the holidays. She had known her for almost five years, and yet she had only seen her a few times. It was perfect. Her friend lived in Sydney, and had never seen snow in her life, except on television. Stella couldn't wait to introduce her friend to the beauty of a countryside snowfall: endless planes of shimmering alabaster snow, nestled quietly in the serene landscape, with a backdrop of gray hills.

Stella smiled warmly at the thought of finally reuniting with her beloved Gwen.

* * *

Felix Lottatore stared distractedly out the window of the parlor of Antonio Ramirez, his longtime acquaintance and fellow gambling enthusiast. The round table in front of him held the bets and cards of all the players still in the hand, of which he was one. The view outside the window was not particularly distracting, but impatience tends to curtail ones normal level of focus.

Felix had already decided to cash out after the hand, as it was getting quite late, but the hand was taking even longer than he thought it would. Looking around him, he saw people scratching their ears, shifting their caps, and glancing nervously at the large pile of chips in front of them, demanding a decision. Felix knew he would win the hand; he knew even before the turn, which revealed to him his long awaited four of a kind. He had known before the flop, and even before he had been dealt his two jacks. He somehow had a strong feeling about this one hand, and had led his opponents on, gradually raising higher and higher amounts, until at last they arrived at the river, when he had gone all in. The others were clearly reluctant to follow suit, but Felix knew they would eventually give in.

However, they were certainly taking their time about doing so. Felix looked at his watch for the third time since he started the hand. He knew the shops would be closing soon, and he still needed to buy Christmas gifts for all of his friends. Although you wouldn't know it by looking at him, Felix Lottatore loved giving gifts. He paid special care to all of his friends' birthdays, and sometimes mailed them gifts for no reason at all other than to give them. Of course, all his friends tried to keep up with his philanthropy, and giving gifts on birthdays became quite important to them all. But not as important as the Holiday of Giving.

* * *

Sean Maxwell sat in his bedroom, dealing with a constant stream of chums, pestering and being pestered.

Oh god so many words.

Sean was pounding on his keyboard faster than a Dominican masseuse on a man's back, but his pals were relentless. He couldn't figure out why they all suddenly started talking to him all day, while they used to never be online. He glanced out the window, enjoying a small break from the endless words flashing onto his screen.

Seeing the faint wisps of snow drifting to the ground, he was reminded of the impending holiday. He had almost forgotten to get all his presents into the mail, but last night Felix had bragged that his gifts were incredible, and that he needn't bother sending anything to their friends, since any gifts he could give would pale in comparison. Of course, that only made him rush out to find whatever stores he could, and buy a boatload of great gifts for his friends.

Then Sean realized why all his friends were suddenly online 24/7: it was Christmastime. He forgot that his friends were usually at a horrible place they called school, which granted them respite for a week or so during the holiday season. He couldn't understand why anyone would willingly accept the confinement of a "classroom" and move around a building at the whim of a bell. He thought it was much easier to learn online, like he and the Lottatores did.

Suddenly, his thoughts were interrupted, as yet another pester window opened up. Huh. Haven't spoken to _him_ in a while...

ostentatiousAuthor began pestering polisPathfinder

* * *

genteelAromatherapist began pestering empiricalEntomologist

gA: Hey Griffin.

eE: Good evening.

gA: Merry Christmas!

eE: I believe I have told you this before:

eE: I don't celebrate Christmas.

eE: Aside from the customary exchange of monetary and sentimental gestures, I have no interest in perpetuating a pointless pagan tradition.

gA: uh...

gA: Ok.

gA: Well I love Christmas!

gA: It's a lovely time of year.

eE: If you say so...

gA: Oh yeah, I'm going to Stella's house for the week!

gA: It'll be so much fun :)

gA: I haven't seen her in sooooo long!

gA: I'm leaving tomorrow night.

eE: Oh

eE: Well, I hope you collect the mail first.

gA: Why?

gA: Wait, should I be expecting one of your turquoise boxes in the mail, as per usual?

eE: Well,

eE: That depends entirely on Felix.

eE: Out parents are visiting some colleagues for the holiday.

eE: And he went into town to buy his own gifts.

eE: So I gave him mine and asked him to mail them.

eE: I would normally assume that he did as I asked, but with him, it is impossible to tell.

gA: Yeah, you should really know by now that he is not reliable for that sort of thing.

gA: But he really is a good friend.

gA: And a good brother!

gA: You should be grateful you still have a brother.

gA: :(

eE: Gwen...

eE: I'm sorry about Max...

gA: No, it's cool.

gA: It's not like it's your fault or anything.

gA: I just...

gA: I wish I knew where he went...

* * *

James Stickley was bored. He sat on his bed, doing nothing, contemplating his boredom.

Oh god so much boredom.

Suddenly, his computer beeped. A message!

He rushed over to his desk to see who it was.

sanguineCynic began pestering coaxialConspirator

sC: yo yo my man

cC: whoa

cC: where have you been?

sC: waddaya mean?

cC: dude it's been like a month since we last spoke

sC: whoa that long?

sC: sorry bro

sC: i guess ive been busy you know?

cC: Not really

cC: Ever since I got here, it's been schoolwork and training nonstop

sC: Wow, that sounds...

sC: ...intense!

cC: nah, it's actually boring

cC: I'm going to go insane!

sC: you should get a hobby

sC: something calming

cC: like what?

cC: There's nothing out here to collect or anything

sC: maybe something calming

sC: I hear woodcarving is nice and relaxing

cC: ...

cC: That sounds stupid

cC: Besides, the closest thing to wood we got here is paper

cC: Oh god

cC: So much paper

cC: It's everywhere

cC: I think my dad saves every piece of mail and every document he has ever touched

sC: Hm...

sC: How bout origami?

cC: hmmm...

cC: that...

cC: is something I will consider doing

sC: yeah definitely do that

sC: Sounds like you could use a constructive outlet

cC: yeah

cC: I can't take all this boredom!

cC: It's like time itself has lost meaning.

sC: So, get a clock!

* * *

Jake Proctor sat at his desk, busily playing an online game called World of Warquest. It was his favorite activity, aside from his recently discovered passion, fencing. He had always loved playing the paladin class, and he was excited to learn how to be one in real life. He relished the thought of his enemies dying on his cold steel, the life fading from their- Ooh a message!

esotericArchitect began pestering chivalrousPaladin

eA: Heeeey!

eA: :)

_Crap. A girl. What should I say?_

cP: Oh, hi!

eA: What are you up to?

eA: Besides being totally adorable!

eA: ;)

cP: Hold please

chivalrousPaladin began pestering coaxialConspiritor

cP: Dude

cP: Help me

cC: What's up?

cP: It's Kara

cP: She just started pestering me out of the blue.

cC: Cool

cP: No! Not cool!

cP: She called me adorable!

cC: So?

cC: That's awesome, that means she likes you.

cP: huh?

cC: She "likes" you

cC: ;)

cP: oh

cP: So what should I say back?

cC: wait

cC: you mean you never answered her?

cC: idiot!

cC: Go tell her you think she's cute too!

cC: Now!

cP: k thnx

cC: GO!

chivalrousPaladin ceased pestering coaxialConspiritor

chivalrousPaladin resumed pestering esotericArchitect

cP: Thanks!

cP: I think you are cute as well.

eA: *^.^*

eA: crap

eA: that was supposed to look like a blushing face

eA: i guess i suck at drawing even emoticons

cP: You don't suck

cP: I love your drawings

cP: They are really pretty and sophisticated and stuff

eA: *^.^*

eA: oops

eA: I mean *blushes*

eA: So yeah, what's happening with you?

cP: Well, it's snowing here, for once.

cP: And how are things over at House Noble?

eA: Ugh

eA: Mom's a bitch

cP: :O

cP: Such language!

eA: Sorry

eA: She just keeps getting on my nerves!

eA: I hate her!

eA: She doesn't let me do anything!

eA: She's smothering me!

cP: Ugh, tell me about it

eA: What?

eA: What do you know about smothering parents?

eA: Your brother sounds so badass

eA: not like my mom

eA: Sometimes I just want to run away from home

cP: Where would you go?

eA: I don't know

eA: I don't care!

eA: Anywhere but here!

cP: Wow

cP: It sounds like you should take a few deep breaths

cP: Just calm down and think for a second

eA: No!

eA: She is yelling at me right now!

cP: What for?

eA: Who cares!

eA: I _hate_ her!

eA: I'm leaving right now!

eA: I already have my stuff ready.

eA: I'll try to find an open wifi network, and we'll talk then.

cP: Wait!

esotericArchitect ceased pestering chivalrousPaladin

cP: Don't go!

* * *

**By the way, the four characters who appear here would be the characters in the new story. Just saying.**


	6. Status Update

**Hello to my tens of readers. I just wanted to let everyone know that I have not forgotten Fieldflung. I have written a few chapters already, and I'm just waiting for school to be a little less demanding. I'll probably post the first chapter by next week, and then I'll post once a week, more or less, depending mostly on schoolwork. Probably less, since I have to cram three semesters of learning into one. :[**

**Till then, I am as I ever was and ever shall be.**

**Yours,**

**Pokerfates**


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